Someone to look after you
by give-me-tvd
Summary: She envies him for not caring that much about control, for giving it away so easily.


Her heart skips a beat when she hears him knocking on the door. She doesn't need to see him to know that it's him. She jumps off the couch and runs to the door, her heart beating faster all the while.

She opens the door and sees him. And for a moment she feels like dreaming, as if everything around her has stopped –not that it was moving anyway. But the only thing she sees is him. Her hand falls from the door frame to her side as she takes the sight in front of her in.

His eyes red and glistering with tears, sad smile painted on his face as he hides his wounded hand in his pockets. Except that he can't hide the blood stains on his clothes. He opens his lips for a moment but nothing comes out. And then his eyes look slightly away before finally landing on his feet. He lets out a heavy breath as he smiles again, still sad and broken.

He looks at her again eventually.

Today he went to meet his mother. He didn't hide it from Caroline, not at all. He convinced her that he had to do it at some point, just meet with his mother and get some logic into her head. He didn't seem scared from her, he seemed certain that she wouldn't hurt him, she is his mother after all.

He seems to be wrong.

She didn't say a word and she is not going to. In another situation, she'd reach for his hand quickly and glare at him for getting hurt. But she knows that it's not his hand that is hurting. It's something else; it's his heart, his little, no scratch that, his big, broken, lonely heart.

So instead of reaching for his hand, she reaches for his shoulders. Pulling him into her embrace, she can feel his jaw clinching against her shoulder. Her hands run over his back as she holds him closer.

He's so still at first, doesn't even flinch. But then she feels his hands coming out from his pockets and hugging her back. It's a ghost of a touch, his palms barley touching the fabric of her clothes, just covering them. But then he holds her stronger, he clings to her as if he's about to fall and trying not to. His head buries deeper in her shoulder, surrounded by her golden curls. He takes another breath as his fingers clutch to her.

And she does the same thing.

She holds him stronger than she ever did since she knew him. It's her way to tell him that she is here, that he has her, that whatever happens, he will always have her. His sober sponsor, his best friend.

Minutes later and they are sitting in her living room. He is sitting in the middle of the couch, eyes staring blankly on the floor. She wipes the blood off of his hand with wet cloth after sitting on the table across him.

Her hands are working on his stained hand but her eyes don't leave his face. The fire next to them making his eyes glow even more with tears and it makes her shiver. She waits for him to say something, to explain what happened, to look at her at least. But he just keeps staring at the floor as he lets her wipe the blood from his hand.

Her hand slow down as she gets worried, she wonders what is going on in his mind.

"Stefan?" She whispers.

He doesn't move for a long moment. She catches his eyes flinching and she waits.

"She said I'm not her son anymore."

His voice takes her off guard, low and cracking as if he's on the verge of crying. Her face twists at the thought.

"My mother, she uh…" He pauses bitterly with raised eyebrows. "She told me she doesn't love me anymore. And I know –I know that it's not something new, but for some reason, standing there… and hearing the words come out of her… I just –it felt…"

He looks down shaking his head.

Her fingers brush over his hand as she tries to meet his eyes.

He sucks a deep breath in and tries to continue.

"It's not just about not wanting to be her old version again. She doesn't want us anymore. She doesn't even want to love us."

His voice is stronger now, sounding more like himself. Even his face is almost normal again. Almost.

"She doesn't feel guilty, she doesn't feel sorry. She feels nothing for us." He pauses. "She feels nothing for me." It comes out as a whisper but she hears it clearly.

"Stefan…"

"It's my entire fault; I keep expecting things –I never learn. I think that people can be fixed; I keep trying to fix them. It's stupid."

He shakes his head in anger with gritted teeth.

"What? No, Stefan. That's not stup –how can you even think like that?" she almost shouts with her eyebrows furrowed.

He just shakes his head and keeps staring at the floor.

"Trying to fix people isn't stupid, Stefan. Seeing hope in people isn't stupid." She's somewhere between calm and furious. "In fact, it's the most human thing, it means that you see good in people and that is… beautiful."

She seems pretty much shocked with her words, and it gets worse when he looks at her. His face mixed with sadness and surprise.

They stare for quite a long second. The silent around them is deadly that they hear their own breathing. They even hear her swallowing hard. She hopes that he can't hear her heartbeats at least because seriously? Now?

In the middle of this tension, she'd bury her head in the sand. But she does the complete opposite. Her free hand goes up for his right cheek and strokes it gently.

His eyes look at her hand for a moment then back to her eyes. She still can see the redness and the tears in them.

"It's what makes you you." She whispers.

She's taken back when he closes his eyes and leans into her touch. She realizes that she'd never seen Stefan this vulnerable before. Yes, he cried in her arms once. Yes, she watched him break things around them and break down. She saw him giving in to his blood lust. She had seen his look before he kissed her. But this feels entirely different.

It's a mixture of many things, of heartbreak, loneliness, need and giving in.

She envies him for doing it so easily, for not worrying about what comes next. For enjoying the moment and letting his body as well as his feelings give in to her. She envies him for not caring that much about control, for giving it away so easy.

She gulps down her thoughts and tries not to drown in her insecurities right now. She pulls her hand slowly away from his face, followed by her hand that was holding his own. His eyes remain closed, but his eyebrows get furrowed and she can see his jaw clinching.

She stands up from the table only to sit on his right. His eyes follow her with confusion.

Her hand reaches for his head and puts in her lap. And he lets her. He lifts his legs on the couch, his hand resting between his cheek and her legs.

"Your mum is stupid. She has no idea what she's missing."

Her voice is smoothing, just like her fingers feel in his hair.

He melts down with the feeling of her hand stroking his hair while the other one is rested on his shoulder.

His eyes fall closed with the sensation, and a sigh leaves his lips as he forgets about all his worries and troubles.

Everything seems bearable now.


End file.
